Page 11

The guy pursed his lips but gave a nod. “I’ll just be over here. Call me if you need me.” He turned his attention to Matt. “Lay a finger on her and you’ll feel the consequences. Got me?”

Why the hell would he lay a finger on her? Did he look like the sort of man to hurt a woman? Hell, no. But before he could defend himself, Sam had already turned away. The guy was very protective. Was there something between him and Darcy? He didn’t like that. And he hated that he didn’t like it. She was nothing to him. And once this meeting was over, they would never lay eyes on each other again. It didn’t matter who she was seeing.

Her eyes were blank, dark like bitter chocolate and tilted at the corners. Lulu’s eyes, he realized with a start of shock. Her skin held an ivory tint, her cheekbones sharp, her chin pointed—again an echo of Lulu. A stud pierced the side of her nose. This was the woman Steven had described; edgy and tough. Though beneath the toughness, he detected an air of vulnerability. Then it was gone, her eyes hardened, and she folded her arms across her chest, an image of sheer belligerence.

“What sort of asshole lets a complete fucking stranger look after his kid?”

For a moment, the words didn’t make sense. He’d been all ready to blast into her, and her attack knocked the words he’d prepared out of his head. “I thought you were the nanny.” Then he couldn’t believe he’d actually tried to defend himself.

“And you hadn’t even met her? You hadn’t interviewed her? Found out if she was suitable? If Lulu liked her?”

“I—” He broke off his words. He’d been about to defend himselfagain. “You had no right to come around my house and pretend to be someone you’re not.”

“I didn’t pretend. You were in such a goddamned rush to get out of there, you almost dragged me in. You had no clue who I was. You didn’t ask for ID. I could have been a serial killer.”

“Instead, you’re a very violent woman with a history of mental instability.”

“What?” She shouted the word, and around them, the room went quiet and still. All eyes turned their way. Sam hurried across, but she made a cutting motion with her hand, and he stopped and went back to whatever it was he’d been doing—albeit slowly. And his gaze remained fixed on the two of them.

Matt returned his attention to Darcy. Her lips were a tight line, but as he watched, she seemed to visibly take control of herself and her locked muscles relaxed.

“I do not have a history of mental instability. If your brother told you that, he was a goddamn liar as well as a goddamn asshole.”

“Oh, yeah. Then what was last night about? You must have been watching me. Following me. You know how messed up that is?”

She shifted on her bare feet, a flicker of unease in her eyes. “I didn’t follow you.” She gave a little shrug. “I just had someone find out where you would be.” Then the unease was gone. “I wouldn’t have had to if you’d just talked to me. I’ve been trying for two months. But I keep getting fobbed off by your stupid lawyer.”

He took a step closer and she held her ground. “That’s because I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want you anywhere near Lulu.”

“Why?”

Was she crazy? “Because you’re not a fit person to be around her.”

This time he knew he’d gotten through to her, and a stab of something—guilt maybe—jabbed him in the gut. But what the hell did he have to feel guilty about? He was only telling her the truth. She looked away for a moment, as if she didn’t want him to see what was in her eyes. Then she looked back. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough. I just came here tonight to give you a warning. Stay away from me. Stay away from Lulu. Otherwise I’ll go to the police. I understand you’re on parole. I could make things very messy for you, and you’ll be right back inside, where you no doubt belong.”

Without another look, he spun on his heels and headed for the door. For some reason he didn’t want to define, he felt like a complete shit. He wasn’t in the wrong here. He was pushing the door open when a hand came to rest on his arm, and he went still. Her fingers were long and slender, her nails short and unpainted. He turned slowly to face her. For a second, her expression was unguarded, and he saw pure hatred in her eyes, far beyond what their encounter warranted. Maybe she was unstable.

“You think you know me?” she asked. “Because of something your brother told you? Well, let me ask you something—how well did you really know your brother, Captain Peterson?”

The question caught him by surprise. The truth was he hadn’t known Steven that well. They’d not been particularly close as children and then five years with a few thousand miles between them had caused a deep divide they’d never really tried to overcome. Maybe he should have made more effort.

When he remained silent, she shook her head. “I have information about Steven you need to see.”

“What information?”

She gave a shrug. “I’m not going into that now, because I think we both need some time to cool down. But believe me—you’ll want to see it. And if you don’t, then I think it’s time to get a lawyer of my own involved.”

“Are you threatening me?”

She blew out her breath then swallowed. “Just meet me tomorrow morning, and I’ll show you. There’s a café across the street. Nine o’clock.” She bit her lip. “Please.” It sounded like the word was strangling her. “It’s important.”

He shook off her hand, turned away from her, and was through the door before she could say another word.